Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
He’s been getting it wrong lately, Draden said softly in her mind, proving he was adept at using telepathy and once she’d given him the pathway, he could use it at will.
Shylah was unsure how she felt about that, but right now, she wanted the comfort of his presence, filling those lonely places. She shivered. It wasn’t that she was cold. Her body seemed to adapt to any climate easily, but she was afraid. Something kept bumping Draden and then it hit her in the back. She had braided her hair before she’d gone to the village the terrorists had taken over, but part was loose now, strands coming out of the weave. Whatever bumped them tangled in her hair and pulled.
She reached back and batted at it. Her hand swiped across a large object and her heart sank. She knew immediately it was a body. The first reaction was to surface. To get away from it. The dead man came floating around her with the current. Its foot seemed to be caught in branches so that the body just bobbed there under the water, faceup. Eyes staring. Heart pounding, she tried to turn her head from those accusing eyes, but the body couldn’t move, and she couldn’t look away.
Draden’s arm swept around her, dragged her right into him, one hand pressing her face into his chest. You’re all right. You did good.
I’m not all right, she denied, trying to keep the sob and the belligerence from her voice. She didn’t know which was worse. I’m going to die and I’m going to do it in a really ugly way. Worse, I’ll probably die before I can find the three men who cooked this abomination up and let it loose on the world. The least I could do before I die is contribute by getting their location to Whitney or someone else who could deal with them.
I’ve got two friends who are proven in this type of crisis who are good at finding immune and drug therapies that help with hot viruses. They’re military and will have the full confidence and cooperation of our government. Anything at all. They need to find answers fast. We have a chance. It’s a small one, but still, it’s a chance. Depends on incubation. If Whitney’s virologists left their remote lab on the run, the three of them probably left behind enough notes for me to send my friends. Trap Dawkins and Wyatt Fontenot are considered two of the leading minds in the field.
Shylah kept her eyes closed. She could still feel the horrible dead body scraping at her with his hands. She wanted to scream. Instead, she burrowed closer into Draden. I don’t know if you’re telling me that to keep me from losing it, but thank you. I appreciate it.
I don’t believe in giving false hope. It’s a slim chance, but they may be able to help us. If it’s too late for us, maybe others. You ready to get out of here?
She was so ready. Absolutely.
We’re going to swim back around the curve to where we were before. That’s the best place to exit the river and they’ve looked at it twice now.
That meant pushing past the dead body. A tiny shudder went through her. His arms tightened around her. Keep your eyes closed.
I hate being all girly. It’s just that I spent some time with dead bodies and they had their eyes open, and I’ve never quite gotten over it. She could kill when she needed to, but the eyes of the dead were a problem for her. She’d been careful when viewing his handiwork on the commander of the MSS not to give his glassy eyes more than a quick glance. She could look at bodies all day, even those covered in blood, but staring at dead eyes really got to her.
How old were you?
He was moving, slowly unfolding his long legs. She had long legs and as he unfolded his, she mirrored what he was doing, straightening very slowly. All the while she kept her eyes closed and her head tight against his chest.
Eight. It was a really bad night.
Eight? What in the hell was an eight-year-old doing surrounded by dead bodies?
Whitney wanted us tough and immune to girlish squeamishness. It’s a little ironic that he gave me nightmares, and I still have trouble looking at the dead. I can kill, but then I can’t look at my handiwork if their eyes are open. Makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it?
There was a sense of comfort being wrapped up in his arms. He was calm in the middle of a terrifying experience. He was a rock she could cling to. She hoped she was doing the same for him but felt like she was failing miserably.
I think you’re pretty brave, Shylah. Let’s stretch out, heads turned away from the dead guy. Keep your eyes closed and let me haul you around him. Once we’re away, I’ll let you know. He made certain every hair from her head was unwrapped from the dead man’s fingers.